


Kinktober: Kylux

by doggonefunny



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Begging, Biting, Blow Jobs, Boot Worship, Bottom Armitage Hux, Breathplay, Collars, Come Swallowing, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Finger Sucking, Frotting, Gun Kink, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Leather Kink, M/M, Master/Pet, Mirror Sex, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Power Bottom Armitage Hux, Role Reversal, Sadism, Stripping, Top Kylo Ren, Voyeurism, ass worship, i think this pretty much covers the month of prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doggonefunny/pseuds/doggonefunny
Summary: Kicking off Kinktober with one of my favourite ships. Typically falls before Ren becomes Supreme Leader, and there ain't nothing cute about them. I don't have the intention to continue these one-shot drabbles and form a full fic, though if there is any interest in them, I may consider it.No beta, we die like men.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	Kinktober: Kylux

**Author's Note:**

> Kylo Ren/Ben Solo and Armitage Hux belong to the creators + Lucasfilm (fuck Disney tbh), and I take no ownership over the characters.
> 
> A collection of works this Kinktober, will be updated daily (or at least, that's the plan). All one-shots, though may consider continuing them for a full fic if there is interest. If I miss any tags/you find something that should be tagged while reading through, please don't hesitate to let me know. I think I got all the basics covered, but I'm only human.

It’s been a stressful, long shift and these new boots weren’t doing Hux any favours. 

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have attempted to break them in on a day he knew he’d be on his feet a lot, but it was a rarity to feel excited about anything anymore, and these boots were the closest thing to a dose of serotonin he could get next to the stims. But by the end of his shift, the General is already leaning against things in private to relieve his feet of pressure. Hips jutted and feet lifted one after another behind him, and finally - when he was absolutely certain he would be alone for a while - he leans entirely on a console and huffs a relieved sigh.

He was still on his feet, mind. Though most of his weight was braced by his palms on the console, lanky body bent at such an angle that were he to shift just a bit, perhaps the arch in his back would be deemed entirely too inappropriate and he could be reamed out for it -- by who, though? Hux shakes his head, puffing another sigh before resting his elbows on the console and gazing at the dull durasteel before him. Not much of a view, but it was something to do while easing his pain. And the unfortunate thing is, Hux is so dissociated with a speck on the wall that he doesn’t click in to heavy, echoing boot falls immediately -- which he would curse himself out for later. It’s only when a metallic voice baritone’s behind him that Hux tilts his head to gaze over his shoulder.

“General--”

The tone is clipped -- Hux has spent many years training his ear in regards to how others speak, and Kylo Ren was no exception. Though more difficult with the vocoder, the General was still able to determine that he was meant to be yelled at … but something had directed Ren’s attention elsewhere, and Hux can’t be sure of where. Hux stands slowly, righting his posture and reaching for his greatcoat with calculated movements. Ren, at times, could come across as a flighty animal. A predator wherein you must move slowly in order to keep it calm. There’s only a slight tilt of Ren’s head, following Hux’s movements, before he’s whirling around and exiting the room as swiftly as he’d come in -- which really meant to say, he had stomped off as disgracefully as he always did.

Hux doesn’t question this interaction, the same as he doesn’t bother to question Ren as to why the Knight continues to hover over his shoulder in the days to follow.

It’s on the third day that it finally clicks. Ren isn’t following him around in the shadows to watch him  _ work _ . He’s waiting to catch him slacking off again. And though Hux had no qualms with someone taking a moment in private to stand easy, so long as it wasn’t in the view of their peers or superiors, Hux did have a certain reputation to uphold and he didn’t think it wise to allow himself the simple pleasure of relieving some tension in his legs and feet to merely have it thrown about in ranks as a rumor that he was slacking. Lazy.  _ Useless _ . 

Hux shakes his head, sneering at the great dark beast on his way out as a warning. Leave him be, or there would be consequences. Not that the slighter male could really defend himself should Ren decide to be less than kind, but he was stubborn enough to admit he would at least fight tooth and claw to assert his stance; he would not simply roll over to someone who was  _ barely _ in equal ranking to him. Ren, and perhaps a few others, may argue this statement, but Hux was hardly willing to accept anything less. If anything, Ren was  _ beneath _ him and should be taking orders from  _ him. _ But this simply was not the case. And he could do nothing but scowl and invade Ren’s personal space the next time he caught the large man lurking.

Hux says nothing at first, but he stands tall. They are roughly the same height after all, and what he lacks in size he more than makes up for in feigned confidence and pure abrasiveness alone.

“Quit stalking about while I’m trying to do my job, you insufferable beast.”

Ren seems unphased, but it’s hard to read a face when it’s masked.

He seems to acquiesce, however, because Hux no longer catches him lingering about the following day. The General can’t help but preen himself a bit at that. A small smirk gracing his features for the rest of the day and well into the evening and perhaps even into the night while he slept. Because he woke up feeling  _ great _ for the first time in many years, and this blinded him just a bit to the threat upon the horizon. Hux can happily march through the corridors without anxiety gnawing in the pit of his stomach. At least, for a few hours.

It’s on the observation deck where Hux generally finds the most peace. The whirring, beeping, gentle blinking of lights on the consoles and computers paired with the vast spans of space before him; galaxies and stars and the promise of a bright future ahead for him. It brings the young General a sense of security. At least, it did until the stomping of familiar boots echo behind him and Hux punches out a quick sigh. He had been quite enjoying himself, thank you very much, until Ren decided to come along. Hux elects to ignore the other’s presence, merely latching on to a patch of glittered black from his scenery -- and before he knows it, he’s hearing many pairs of footfalls. A disgusted look twists the redhead’s face as he turns his head, watching with a flicker of confusion as his officers file out with a hint of urgency.

He turns his head just a bit more to see Ren has raised a gloved hand, index finger and thumb in a position that indicates he may have snapped his fingers, but no sound had come. The crew knows, regardless. Most of Ren’s movements simply signify:  _ leave. _

“I thought I told you not to hover.”

Ren lowers his arm slowly, head tilted and staring blankly ahead -- so  _ difficult _ to read a face behind a mask. Though it does dawn on Hux then that he had likely compromised himself now that he’d spoken. He had been so engrossed with his view and how close it was to the end of his shift that he hadn’t realized he’d been leaned forward on a smaller console, fingers gripping the edge of said console though legs still parted in a stand-easy. It was a rather lewd position to have been found in, though to be fair, Hux hadn’t intended for this to even happen. Ren, stood behind him uncomfortably close. Ren, leaning forward just a bit, as though magnetized and somehow drawn in by the General’s belt buckle or something equally as silly -- all Hux knew was that he wasn’t having any of it, and he pushed rather abruptly off the console. 

Only to be held back in place, a leather clad hand at the back of his neck with pressure, though no force. Hux remains where he’s stood, silently steaming and glaring at the blinking buttons of the console below him as though they’d done him wrong somehow from generations back. Again, Ren is often compared to a flighty, violent predator in Hux’s mind. He knows better than to move quickly, snap back loudly, or struggle back against the grip on his neck. So there he remains until Ren is finished toying with him and the pressure is gone.

The General stands swiftly, fluidly as opposed to quickly so as not to antagonize the beast behind him … but when he turns to grab for his greatcoat, Hux finds that there’s something very interesting and of great value happening behind him. Ren isn’t looking at Hux’s torso -- on the contrary, his head is following the movement of Hux’s  _ lower half _ , and he actually  _ leans _ to the side in order to watch Hux’s rear end fall out of view. Ren’s head snaps up quickly, and Hux swears that Ren must be blushing because there’s an awkward shrug of the Knight’s shoulders before he’s huffing a frustrated growl into the vocoder and whipping around as though Hux had slapped him.

And he  _ should _ have, knowing Ren had been gawking at his rear like a horny cadet.

Hux watches Ren leave the observation deck having made a tremendously important observation of his own. Ren had been staring at his ass the first time as well, and though the General had earned his rank with nothing but professionalism, he wasn’t deaf to the rumors that tended to float about social circles. He’d been propositioned by many superior officers who believed said rumors; promising Hux a promotion, promising Hux a ridiculous amount of credits, promising Hux this, promising Hux that. It would be safe to assume that Ren had heard these rumors as well, but to be honest the General had never considered Ren to be anything but a  _ husk _ . A bulky, hulking suit with a helmet as empty as his head surely must be. Not only that, but he did respect the young man enough to believe that he wouldn’t feed into such lies anyway.

Perhaps he had assumed wrong. But it was very unlikely.

Hux begins to bend at the waist a little more often now; for scientific purposes, of course. And truly so, as he records the data exceptionally. The days he catches Ren in shadows often correlate with the days he catches Ren staring (he assumes -- hard to read a face behind a mask). The rare days he is free, and spends time in the canteen to nurse a caf or two, are the days that most often correlate with Ren’s temper tantrums. Is it the lack of ass? Hux wasn’t insecure enough to deny that he did have an  _ exceptional _ rear end, and perhaps now was the time to be flaunting this particular asset. He smirks to himself; both silently giggling at his internal pun and at the realization there  _ was _ a way to control this feral animal. It was unconventional, sure.

But it might just work.

And for science purposes again, of course, Hux chooses a shift he knows is going to be quiet to really test his hypothesis. 

The observation deck is running smoothly, as per usual. The officers take no mind as Hux leans forward against the console -- it’s nearing the end of everyone’s shift, and it’s late enough in the ship’s simulated cycle that yawns accompany many of the beeps and whirrs. Hux’s own yawn included at times. They’re all tired, and Hux tends to be slightly lenient on nights like this. Especially now, as his legs are parted slightly further than a stand easy calls for and he’s presenting himself as the farthest thing from a dignified man. But few officers take this as a subtle sign that leaning hips against walls and laying their heads back against the rests of their chairs for a moment isn’t going to get them court-martialed; however, there is a chorus of snaps to attention when Ren stomps on deck and a shuffling of boots a moment after.

Right on time, and exactly what he had expected was to happen. Until it really wasn’t.

There’s a pressurized noise that Hux is unfamiliar with sounding behind him, and with a look of confusion the General tilts his head to glance over his shoulder -- and is taken aback by a young face. It takes an extraordinary amount of time for Hux to realize that he’s looking at  _ Ren _ , as he  _ is _ , and though he would normally be embarrassed, he’s intrigued. He’s fascinated. He’s  _ accosted. _

The  _ boy _ before him certainly couldn’t be the big bad beast Hux had had nightmares about. He was awkward looking, for crying out loud. With a disproportionate nose, and large ears, and freckles he could sit and count for hours as he did the stars … no! With pouty lips attached to a gaping  _ maw _ , as though he had seen something truly groundbreaking. Black, sad-looking eyes that couldn’t tear themselves off of Hux’s ass even as the General spoke slowly; and especially as he shifted himself so his tunic rode up just that tad bit more and his newly fitted pants pulled taut. “As you must very well know, my eyes are not on the cheeks of my rear end, Ren. Though, I am flattered to see you like my new jodhpurs.”

Hux watches the lump in Ren’s throat bob; an almost comical gulp before he’s literally dropping down slowly to his knees behind him. Hux wonders briefly if this is going too far, but they  _ are _ alone and he’s curious as to where this may go. For his data, clearly.

Though Ren merely breathes behind him, heavy and labored as though he has run through the corridors to meet Hux here, the redhead has never felt more powerful than he did in this very moment. He isn’t sure where or when the line had been crossed from enemy territory to dangerous and mutual arousal, but Hux is a little bit pissed off that Ren had to obsess over his ass because the General found that he was rather quickly becoming obsessed with Ren’s face. He wanted to study it more. Watch micro-expressions and really peer into those eyes to find the darkness and prophecies that he was promised, instead of a salivating  _ dog _ at his heels.

Not that he was complaining; especially when Ren leans forward a little more with wide, curious eyes, toward the backs of his thighs. Hux stares with pinched brows before finally offering a short nod of permission, eyes blinking shut slowly and head turning back toward the view spread out before him … while Ren took in the view spread out before  _ him. _

Leather-clad hands find the General’s waist slowly, hesitantly, and Hux almost scoffs at how gentle he is all things considered. He’d been at the shit end of the stick with Ren’s anger far too many times to count to ever consider this hulking thing anything close to  _ gentle _ … but he is, surprisingly, and he wraps long fingers around Hux’s waist easily. This time, Hux  _ does _ scoff, but only because he knows his lanky body isn’t anything to sneeze at in comparison to -- oh, well now. The sighed groan behind him disagrees. Hux’s body is just right, apparently. And it doesn’t take long for his belt buckle to be manipulated open, button fly undone and trousers pulled down along with his pants in one easy tug to reveal himself openly on deck. Hux would fear reprimand if he had anyone to reprimand him. (He did, he merely elected to ignore this.)

The General hisses. He knew, logically, that it could get this far but he hadn’t expected it to happen. In reality, he had considered Ren might chicken out and call it quits and scurry away like a scolded cur. But he decidedly proves him wrong when Ren immediately tugs him nearer, hands clasping the General’s waist again loosely. The flat of Ren’s tongue against the round of his ass has the redhead balking, shifting slightly on his feet before being rendered still by a squeeze of Ren’s great hands. It isn’t so much that Hux is opposed to this, because he  _ isn’t _ … but it happens so quickly and so  _ hungrily _ that it throws him for a loop. Makes his head spin a little, although that may be because all of his blood has detoured straight to his dick.

There’s another long lick. Another groan and this time Hux isn’t sure who it comes from.

This is all very confusing, and maybe Hux’s brain is still buffering, but he allows autopilot to take over while Ren busies himself between the cheeks of his ass. Large thumbs pulling his cheeks apart. Large tongue laving over the General’s hole like he  _ knows _ what he’s doing, and Hux can safely assume that Ren positively does  _ not _ know what he’s doing … but, damn … does he ever know what he’s doing. It’s embarrassing how quickly Hux begins panting -- more for the fact he’d been holding his breath to feign boredom and displeasure, but he can’t deny it any longer. Ren’s large nose is playing along the crack of his ass with each stroke of his large tongue, and Hux is just hyper fixated on how  _ large _ this beast is. What else must certainly be  _ large _ about him.

The Knight isn’t shy. It’s all very sloppy and rather uncoordinated, but there’s something charming about how clumsy Ren is as he licks into him. How  _ loud _ the young man’s groaning and whimpering is, as though this has been everything he’s longed for finally placed before him on a silver platter. Perhaps, more appropriately, within skinny jodhpurs. Large hands paw at his cheeks now, long having abandoned holding Hux in place by the waist but Hux wasn’t going anywhere. Hells no, he wasn’t going anywhere now. Not with this type of stimulation. It’d been an incredibly long time for him, and even if this couldn’t happen again (far be it for him to deny Ren if he wanted it again, however), Hux was going to milk it for all Ren was worth this go around. Which … wasn’t really much, but what Ren lacked in everything, he made up for tenfold in eating ass. A good quality for his co-commander to have, Hux decided.

“Ren,” Hux finally pants out, and the young man flinches a bit behind him at the sound of his name -- neither had spoken since this started, and it was strange now to hear voices instead of groans. Ren doesn’t let up, however, though does give a firm squeeze to acknowledge that he was listening. “If you keep this up, you’re going to make me come.”

The sound that leaves Ren is nothing short of pornographic.

The Knight doesn’t quit for the life of him; and by the sound of his labored breaths and short clipped moans after each exhale, Hux was certain he was going to come too. Which was actually  _ delightful _ , because Hux hadn’t even had to touch him. Ren would come untouched, and Hux still held all the power. Not that he would hold this over Ren’s head in the future; this was mutually beneficial in the long run, and Hux was disengaged enough to differentiate between professionalism and a … whatever this was. Hux would still snip at Ren the same as Ren would probably still antagonize Hux. The only difference was now they had a way to relieve that frustration of one another. On one another.

There’s a quickening of breath behind him, and Hux really can’t stop himself from craning his neck to stare over his shoulder. Ren’s really something to behold, and he’s still obsessed with looking at his face. The General knows this is bittersweet, as Ren will go back to wearing the mask again in every single other situation, but now Hux knows when he’ll be able to see that awkward, boyishly handsome face of his and it causes his dick to twitch in anticipation of those times to come. Hells, he hadn’t even finished with this time and he was already hungry for more. Hux manoeuvers himself into a position without interrupting Ren’s current task just in time to see him pause. Inhale sharply. Hold his breath and absolutely  _ fall apart _ a moment after.

Ren’s moaning and nipping and sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his inner thighs is what sends Hux over the edge as well, a high pitched whine escaping him despite his best efforts to keep quiet. There’s panting, groaning, thick swallows, and a quiet chuckle from someone but the afterglow doesn’t last long. Hux’s euphoria freezes over with icy anxiety, insecurity causing him to right himself quickly and lift his pants and trousers, one hand deftly doing the buttons of his fly while he smooths back his hair with his free hand. Ren merely leans back to watch him with a stoic expression, vulnerability on his features as clear as day and Hux is so  _ pissed off _ that he can’t seem to look away from this baby faced prick. Despite himself, he crouches lower to get on Ren’s level without being on his own knees, one hand reaching out to grip Ren’s jaw daintily.

“Excellent work, Ren.” Hux offers, soft-spoken but with an authoritative whisp in the undertones. “Very good. Now,” Hux moves to stand, pulling up on Ren’s jaw as he does so in order to force the Knight to stand. “Go clean yourself up. I’ll clean up here. Go on, now.”

Surprisingly, Ren does as he’s told obediently, even if Hux hadn’t intended for it to be an order. And Hux does as he said he would as well, cleaning the console and floor spotless before the next wave of officers and crew were due to start their shift.

Very interesting data, indeed. Though a true scientist would have to repeat his tests a few times to collect it consistently, right?


End file.
